Mending Broken Branches
by BoundLight
Summary: The Doctor is still mad at Jack, but now the good Captain won't stop calling, and the Master is insisting he isn't angry. Can an apology fix everything? Terrible summary, read anyway. Note the rating for Jack's perverted mind. Part of the "What Would I Be Without You?" universe. Doctor/Master (hints of Doctor/Master/Jack)


Part of the "What Would I Be Without You?" universe. This may make more sense after reading it.

A note before we begin, which you in no way really need to read:

You may think the Master is a little ooc in this, but I'm not so sure. I don't think he's the kind to hold grudges. At least, not in this universe you've dived in with me. To me that implies that he cares too much for people I don't think he cares for at all. Especially without the drums driving him towards madness. With the drums, you're right he'd never let you live it down. Without the drums... I'm not so sure. That being said, in a case like this, I personally think the Doctor would get angrier than the Master.

* * *

The Master sat back, watching the Doctor dance between the controls. He could help with the piloting if he wanted, but then he'd be deprived of this sight of the Doctor's long limbs and perfect arse as he guided them through the void.

The Master watched his fill, and then on a particularly close pass he darted forward, dragging the Doctor down into his lap, kissing him lazily.

Eventually the Doctor had to push the Master back and return to flying.

The Master let him go with minimal fuss, and watched him quite happily with rather goofy smile.

The Doctor peaked at him every chance he got. He was proud to have put that expression on his face.

He was just considering where to go to _keep _that expression, when the phone rang.

The Doctor picked it up and stilled.

That was interesting. The Master sat forward and tried to peak at the phone's display. Before he could, the Doctor ended the call and set the phone down roughly.

The Master raised an eyebrow. The Doctor ignored him.

The phone rang again.

The Master looked at it expectantly. The Doctor glared and ignored it rather pointedly. He went back to the controls, anger leaking into his movements until the phone stopped.

The phone rang again.

"Well?" The Master asked. "I'm a bit new to this, but that sounds important."

"What ever it is, he can do it without me."

"Ah, _he_."

"Yes," the Doctor glared darkly. "He."

The phone rang again.

The Master laughed. "Just answer it!"

The Doctor turned to the Master, deeply offended. "He tortured you!"

The Master shrugged. "It happens."

The Doctor glared.

"Not that I'm not flattered. Truly. But really, if you're going to hate everyone who has ever caused me injury you're going to hate a _lot_ of people of every species, " he looked at the Doctor meaningfully, "and I don't think you're capable of that."

The Doctor scowled. "He _tortured_ you and _lied_ about it."

"Of course he lied about it. He was dripping in guilt when he did it," the Master giggled, "oh, I wish I could have been there to see his face when he realized you were going to find out."

The Doctor looked a little confused.

"Come on, there was no way you weren't going to find out. He was a fool if he thought he could keep it from you."

The Doctor's brow furrowed. He glared suspiciously. "Why aren't you more angry about this?"

The Master shrugged. "Eh, it was his turn. I got him pretty good for a full year, and of course it's my turn next."

"...so... you're not mad?"

"Nah. Doesn't mean I won't punch him the next time I see him but..."

The phone rang.

"See what the boy wants."

The Doctor glowered, still looking very uncertain. The Master picked up the phone and handed it to him. The Doctor waited until the last ring, and pushed the green button. He held it to his ear. There was silence on the other end.

The Master sat back and kicked his feet up onto the consul. The Doctor watched him with a small frown on his face. The Master looked at him expectantly. The Doctor scowled. "Hello?"

The Master couldn't hear the other end, but the Doctor's face never changed. "Fine." He hung up.

"Well?"

"We're going for drinks."

"When?"

"5PM Thursday. I'm going to need at _least_ a week first."

The Master laughed. "Where to then?"

"Somewhere with a view."

The Doctor turned back to the consul, and within seconds they were materializing on a planet known for its beaches and resorts. The Doctor grabbed the Master's hand and lead him out into the light. The Master smirked and followed.

They walked through the sun until they found two free lounge chairs. The Master shed his shirt and basked in the sun while the Doctor frowned at the sea, deep in thought, alternately stroking the Master hand and gripping it tight.

The Master let him be. His Doctor was a very passionate person. He took loyalty very seriously. The worst thing anyone could do to him would not be hurting him, but those he cared about. It was just his bad luck that he chose to put the Master in that category.

The Master had a nice glow about him by the time the Doctor tugged him to his side.

"Worked it out?"

"I... think so."

"Conclusion?"

The Doctor dragged the Master to his chest. He didn't say anything.

* * *

They packed up and took off, landing outside a pub in central London. The Doctor hesitated outside the door, but the Master pushed in anyway.

The Captain was at the bar, studying his beer seriously. His face was drawn and grim.

The Doctor stopped again, and the Master found himself tugging the Doctor further. The Master clapped a hand on Jack's shoulder and signaled to the bartender. "Champagne and a screwdriver please." He grinned at the Doctor, but the Doctor didn't smile. His own faltered. The Doctor usually loved that joke. The Master looked back to Jack. "Booth." He pulled the Doctor into the darkness of the pub.

The booth was towards the back hidden in the shadows. He slid in and pulled the Doctor in after him. Normally the Master liked to be the one sitting on the outside, where he could easily run should the need arise, but this time he felt that the Doctor was going to need that reassurance.

The Doctor seemed surprised. He slid in gratefully, taking the Master's hand in his.

Jack joined them quickly, looking everywhere else.

They sat in silence.

A waitress came over and set their drinks in front of them. She sensed the tense atmosphere and wisely remained silent.

The Master picked up his flute and sipped at his drink. The Doctor fingered his glass. Jack looked deeply into his.

The Master looked between the two, waiting to see who'd break first. He was betting on Jack. The Doctor could be a stubborn bastard when he wanted to be.

Finally, after what felt like hours, but was actually only five minutes, Jack looked up. He eyed the Master heavily then looked at the Doctor. "I'm sorry."

The Master was pleased Jack was smart enough to get it. To understand exactly who he was apologizing to.

The Doctor was silent long enough for it to become awkward. Then he slammed his glass on the table, spilling a little of his drink across his hand. "Why'd you do it?"

The sound echoed in the silent bar, and the Master stretched his mind to dissuade the bartender from coming over and kicking them out. It probably would have been better to have this conversation when the bar was full enough to drown out the sound.

"I thought I was doing the right thing. I understand I was wrong. I should never have gone that far –"

"Of course not! We're supposed to be the good guys! We're supposed to protect the innocent –"

"Well, in his defense, I'm hardly innocent," the Master said quietly. He took a long sip.

Jack looked at him incredulously. "What?"

"Don't defend him!" The Doctor shouted. "He wouldn't have even told me about it if I hadn't forced the tape!"

The Master quieted the bartender's concern again. "Well, you are rather intimidating, darling."

The Doctor sputtered for a moment. "That's beside the point! He's my friend! He isn't supposed to lie to me!"

"No one can be honest all the time."

Jack watched them with wide eyes. "Are you seriously defending me?"

The Doctor and the Master turned at the same time. "Shut up!"

The Doctor turned back to the Master. "You can't expect me to just sit back and watch people hurt you! What would you do if it was me in your place?"

The Master's face stilled, darkened. A growl started low in his throat. "This planet would burn."

"Exactly! How can you expect any less from me?"

"Because you're supposed to be better than me!"

They both glared at each other.

Jack watched them carefully. "May I interject?"

They both glared at him. Jack took a quick drink and straightened in his seat and cleared his throat. "When I first heard that someone had fallen from the sky... I thought we were going to be moping up such a mess..."

"It was almost a mess," the Master muttered. The Doctor frowned sadly.

"When I saw it was _you_..." he drank again, "I admit, I over reacted. I... just remembered everything from that year and... I thought you'd come to do it all over again and... I just couldn't let you. And Doctor, I should have told you. I should have told you the moment I knew it was him, but I was..."

"Pissed? Angry? Furious?" The Master said.

"_Terrified_." Jack said, annoyed. "I was _terrified_ that if I took my eyes off you for one _second_ you'd blow up the whole of England."

The Master smiled behind his glass. Admitting fear was harder than admitting bravery.

"I'm not... trying to excuse anything, but it was my fear that drove me to do what I did. I was so afraid of what would happen if I didn't find out what he was planning that I... I lost myself. I did things I should never have even considered doing, and I'm sorry."

There was silence following Jack's declaration. The Master wasn't used to hearing apologies and this was making him feel incredibly awkward. He downed his champagne and shifted to exit the booth. He knocked into the Doctor.

The Doctor didn't move, still focused on Jack. The Master frowned, but he didn't want to interrupt whatever it was that was going on between the two in this incredibly loud silence.

Over Jack's shoulder the Master saw the waitress step up to the bar and unload empty glasses. He reached out and brushed her mind. Ah. Moët and Chandon Dom Perignon White and Gold. How in Rassilon's name did they have that, and why hadn't he gotten that the first time? She set her tray down, went behind the bar, and emerged with the bottle. She wrapped a thick towel over the top and opened it. The Master heard a distant 'pop' and then she walked over to their table.

The Captain and the Doctor both looked up, surprised at her sudden appearance. The Master smirked and held out his glass. She poured, and then turned to leave. The Master held out his hand. She stopped and set the bottle down before returning to the bar.

The Master sipped, and hummed in satisfaction. When he opened his eyes both Jack and the Doctor were looking at him. "What?"

Jack and the Doctor giggled.

Jack held up a hand. "Two more glasses!"

The Master subtly nudged her mind, suppressing her annoyance at being shouted at, and prompting her to pick up the champagne flutes. When she arrived she was cheerful again, though she seemed very surprised to see a bottle already at their table.

Jack poured the glasses and took a sip. "I must admit, it's a useful trick."

"It's hardly a trick," the Master sniffed disdainfully. "It's an _art_."

The Doctor looked at the Master, considering, and the Master felt the press of his mind. He pressed back reassuringly. The Doctor looked at Jack, and nodded.

And then it was as though a great cloud had been lifted. The Doctor was smiling, and Jack seemed much more relaxed. The Master was intrigued. Apparently apologizing _worked_.

They drank well into the night, and the Master had to admit, the Captain could hold his liqueur. After they'd finished the champagne, the Master and the Captain moved to beer, and the Doctor found something fruity the Master couldn't even identify. The Master was rather amused that Jack matched him drink for drink. He wondered if Jack's liver could handle it.

"So... you two are..."

"Yes." The Doctor said a little defensively.

"No, no, I get it," Jack said quickly, "believe me, I get the attraction."

The Master coughed into his beer.

"But I have to know... who tops?"

The Doctor turned red, but the Master was too busy coughing to tease him.

"That's a little personal..." The Doctor said.

"Just a bit." The Master said.

"Aw, come on! The visual in my head is so vague right now..."

"You have a _visual _in your _head_ about us?" The Master asked.

"Of course." Jack said. "Who wouldn't?"

"Normal, not perverted apes?"

"That's a bit speciest., don't you think?"

"Have you _met_ me?" The Master asked incredulously.

"Have you met _me_?" Jack teased.

"Ah, I forgot," the Master said, "you are _insatiable_."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

The Master had to laugh.

"So come on! Who tops?"

The Master turned to the Doctor. "Well?"

The Doctor sputtered. "Well, it's not, he's not, you see..."

"He does." The Master said simply.

"Ha!" Jack's smile was huge, he looked like a boy at Christmas. "I knew it!"

"I'm not sure if I should be offended." The Master mused, patting the Doctor's back.

"There are many people, myself included, who would love to be in your position, I don't think you need to be offended."

"Jack!" The Doctor said sharply.

The Master didn't mean to peak, he really didn't, but Jack was projecting so loudly he couldn't help but overhear.

He saw himself sandwiched between the Doctor and the Captain, moaning wantonly as they both filled him.

He was sucked into the fantasy.

He was balanced against the Doctor's chest, leaning forward against the oppressive heat that was Jack's chest.

His body was twitching uncomfortably as unfamiliar hands bruised his hips, but his skin was soothed by the Doctor's hands tangled in his hair and resting against his neck.

And he felt far too full in the most delicious of ways. They were moving in tandem with each other, and the Master was overwhelmed. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. All he could do was feel.

The noises in Jack's mind were positively pornographic, and the Master was sure he'd never be so vocal, but in the moment it was convincing.

Then Jack's hand was a hot brand in the center of his back. He shoved the Master flat against the Doctor's chest, changing the angle, both of them hitting his prostate with each thrust...

He jerked out with a gasp.

Both Jack and the Doctor were laughing over something the Master had missed. Neither seemed to notice what had happened. The Master shifted uncomfortably. He felt too hot, and his clothing was restrictive. He was happy the table hid his arousal.

He glared at Jack. "You did that on purpose."

"What?" Jack asked.

The Master glared at the Doctor. "No." He glared at Jack. "_No_."

The Doctor looked confused, but Jack at least seemed to realize what had happened. He shrugged. "A guy can dream."

"_No_, a guy _cannot_ dream. Dreaming is strictly forbidden, especially dreaming about _that_. I feel so dirty now..."

Jack smirked. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

"I am centuries older than you!"

"But you look a bit younger, so I win."

"I do not look younger!" He jerked his thumb at the Doctor. "_He_ looks younger."

Jack smirked, and the Master was sucked into his mind again. This time he was lying on silk sheets, and the Doctor was pounding into him, harder, faster, shoving him up the bed with each thrust until he had to bracket himself against the headboard to keep from hitting it.

The Doctor was drawing or manner of noises from his throat. Small whimpers and cries that echoed loudly in his ears.

The Doctor's hair was hanging in his face, wet with sweat, and his smile looked so impossibly young.

The Masters back arched under the Doctor's ministrations, and then he came with a shout.

He jerked out with a barely muffled groan. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you."

"You know, I think I've found a wonderful new game."

"I will _kill_ you."

"And that won't stop me."

The Captain had a point. The Master changed tactics. He turned the full force of his pout on the Doctor.

The Doctor sighed. "_Children_. Master, stop reading Jack's mind –"

"But he –"

"Jack, stop molesting the Master."

"I didn't touch him!"

"Both of you, _behave_."

The Master slumped in his seat with a pout. Jack was hiding his smirk with his beer. "It's not like I _want_ to, he's just thinking so _loud_."

"It's not like _I_ want to," Jack countered, "you just look so fuckable."

"Jack!" The Doctor scolded.

"I do not!" The Master shouted.

"I cannot take you two anywhere." The Master glanced at the Doctor, and saw the affection on his face. He saw this as permission to stick his tongue out at Jack.

It was nearing four when the bartender finally kicked them out of the pub. The Master could feel the annoyance in his mind, but their incredibly high check made him at least treat them mildly politely.

Jack walked them to the TARDIS. He caught the Master before he could enter and pulled him back. He kissed him firmly, then did the same to the Doctor. The Master was a little offended that the Doctor wasn't surprised by it. "Hands off!" He shouted.

Jack smirked. "Consider it."

The Doctor glared. "Jack."

Jack looked far too pleased with himself.

"One more thing," the Master said. He punched the Captain as hard as he could; Jack staggered back a step. "That's for last time."

Jack laughed, and the Master silently cursed his throbbing hand. He'd have to use a weapon next time. "Fair enough. Good night."

"Good night!" The Doctor called. He pulled the Master in the TARDIS before he could do anything to wipe the smile off Jack's face. "That went better than I expected."

"I'm still not fucking him."

"Of course not," the Doctor said, pushing the Master rather insistently towards his room. "Not yet anyway."

"_Yet_? What do you mean _yet_?"

"Who knows what the future my bring!"

"Not that!"

"Not yet." He opened the door to his room and shoved the Master onto the bed. "Now tell me what you saw."

The Master moaned as the Doctor tore his clothes off, scattering them across the floor. He bit across the Master's chest, leaving marks that would bruise by morning. Possessiveness was a good look on the Doctor. Maybe he could deal with _yet_.

* * *

It was requested that I mend the branch that was broken in 'What Would I Be Without you?' and I felt an apology was the only way. However just saying "so look, I'm, uh, sorry" wasn't going to cut it. I feel rather sad to say I had to look up "how to apologize to your best friend." Apparently this method is supposed to work, and who am I to argue?

And yes, you read right, this may lead to a threesome with our favorite boys in the near future.


End file.
